


Finding Faith

by Thedarkslayer



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-23
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-03-08 18:56:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3219797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thedarkslayer/pseuds/Thedarkslayer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><strong>A Buffy the Vampire Slayer/Supernatural crossover:</strong> John Winchester and his boys move into Boston as John has heard about the increase in Vampire related Deaths. These aren't like his vampires, they're easier to kill but more numerous. While the boys are in school Dean meets one Faith Lehane, just fourteen, underweight and often carrying mysterious injuries, John becomes suspicious that her home life isn't 'Five by Five'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: BTVS/SPN crossover, Note that this is a pre-slayer Faith, based on my RP Muse and headcanons developed through roleplay, all based on the argument on how bad or good of a father John Winchester was, My though was, either way it goes he was a better father than Patrick Lehane, and then the thought merged into...John would beat the shit out of him...and I wanted that WARNING: IN LATER CHAPTERS THERE WILL BE MENTIONS OF CHILD ABUSE, SUGGESTED CHILD ABUSE, AND POSSIBLE DEPICTIONS OF CHILD ABUSE there's some fucked up shit, if this triggers you please don't do the thing, I wouldn't blame you...{ALSO POSTED ON DEVIANT ART}

At least the boys could go to school here, he knew it would be a few months as he couldn’t quite figure out what was going on here. There were vampires here, but they weren’t like the ones he normally dealt with, they embodied every myth he thought was bullshit. It was frustrating, but it turned out the Soulless vampires were easier to kill. They were like rats in Boston, you kill one there was ten more waiting, so when you killed ten...the trend continued and they all seemed to have some really tacky tribal tattoo. It meant something he was sure of it. He was also sure that there was a huge nest of them somewhere, but he couldn’t seem to find them. It was quite unlike anything he’d seen, the vampires seemed to run the nightlife. It was why he forbid his sons to be out after dark, and why he had to actually rent a house to keep them safe, as they could only be verbally invited in.

He limped in the door his body protesting all forms of movement but he ignored it, his first instinct was to check on the boys, limping first to his youngest’s room, the eleven year old feigned sleep. John could tell but he left him be with a slight smile. Then to check on Dean, who he was sure would be awake, he wasn’t overly surprised at the sound of movement but utterly shocked when he pushed open the door to find a topless girl straddling his son. John promptly turned his head, he couldn’t help but notice nasty dark bruising along one of her sides, he’d broken enough ribs to know what that looked like.

“Dean…” he said shortly.

“You’re...home earlier than I expected…” Dean said quickly fishing around for the girl’s shirt, but she’d already found his and pulled it on.

John cautiously turned back around, and gave Dean an exasperated look, clearly he had more to say to Dean but not while she was here so he addressed her, “What’s your name?” he asked straightening his posture to keep from appearing injured.

She didn’t look up at him, “Faith,” she answered, fidgeting with her hair nervously.

“How old are you Faith?” he asked her. 

“Old enough,” she said shortly.

John snorted crossing his arms and staring at her until she gave him an answer, “Fourteen,”

“Do your parents know what you’re doin’ at fourteen?” John demanded.

“Dad…” Dean muttered his face slightly pinked with embarrassment.

“I’ll talk to you in a minute Dean,” He said shortly.

Faith snorted rolling her eyes and finally looking up at him, “Why? Should I detail it for him? You think he needs instructions? I think he managed without help from me,” she replied her eyes locking with his.

John’s jaw tightened it wasn’t the first time he was glad he didn’t have a girl. This caused him amazing amounts of stress and she wasn’t even his kid. She was fourteen...the last thing Dean needed was to get some fourteen year old girl pregnant.

“Come on, I’m takin’ you home,” John said shortly.

“I can walk,” she replied quickly.

“You can, but you’re not gonna, let’s go,” John said jerking his head toward the door.

There was no way he was going to let her walk home alone, she’d never make it and he couldn’t live with that. The drive back would give him time to calm down. Dean was a teenage boy, he shouldn’t be too shocked but he’d told him not to invite anyone in. What if something had happened to Sam while they were...busy…? What if he’d gotten her pregnant?

She’d grudgingly given him directions, the ride was silent and awkward she seemed to have a completely different attitude once they were alone in the car. She wrapped her arms around herself and pulled her knees to her chest. She was leaned up against the door as far away from John as she could get.

He felt like he should say something, maybe a lecture on giving up something so special this early on in life. It wasn’t really his place, she wasn’t he child and he doubted it would be met with an open mind.

When they finally got outside her house she hesitated, before opening the door but looked utterly startled when John got out.

“What the hell are you doing?” she demanded.

“Walking you to the door,” John said shortly, he was going to at least let her ,Father, he presumed from her speech earlier, know where he found her, “Your Father might wanna know where his daughter’s been, I would.”

She stopped walking her head down, “Please don’t,” Faith muttered.

John nudged her forward and knocked on the door. For moment he thought no one was going to answer and he was going to let her go inside but he heard so shuffling around and a blonde man with very blue eyes pulled the door open, his eyes narrowed slightly.

“Who’re you?” he demanded, he had a heavy Irish accent, and there was the smell of Gin on his breath.

“I’m John, Is this your daughter?” he asked him.

“Y’up that’s M’Faithy, Christ what did she do now?” he asked stepping outside. He was about the same height as John, a bit leaner, he didn’t look much like her except in face structure.

“It’s what she was trying to do when I found her,” John snorted.

“Oh Yeah? What’s that?”

“My son,” John told him with a light eye roll.

Something about the look that flashed through his eyes made John feel a bit uneasy. He couldn’t pinpoint what it was. He expected the man to be angry, if she were his daughter he’d be livid.

“Get in the house,” he said shortly, Faith didn’t move at first, her eyes flicking up to John, “Now,”

Faith did scurry in the house at that, and the man offered him a smile, “Much obliged to ya, Th’name’s Patrick, I appreciate ya bringin’ her home.”

“It’s not safe for her to be out after dark,” John shrugged offering the man his hand which he took shaking firmly.

“Sorry ‘bout the trouble,” Patrick rolled his eyes, “I’ll see that it doesn’t happen again,” he paused his eyes straying behind John, “Now she’s a beauty…” he said nodding to the Impala.

John smirked and nodded, “That she is, and to think I was gonna get a volkswagen, have a good night, don’t be too hard on her, they’re just bein’ kids.”

“They’re kids tryin’ to be adults,” Patrick corrected, he seemed to be in good humor when John left, but something made him uneasy. He couldn’t place his finger on what it was.

By the time John got home he was too tired to even start to have that conversation with Dean. He just wanted to soak in a hot bath.


	2. Sins of thy father

It had been three days, and Faith couldn’t even drag herself out of bed. She couldn’t draw in a breath without pain. She hadn’t eaten because she couldn’t get up to get herself food. Her father only left a bottle of Gin on her nightstand, she hated the foul liquid but it soothed the pain. She wanted to get in the shower to wash him off of her. His voice echoed in her head.

 

_You’ll just open your legs for anyone won’t ya, Whore?_

 

She was nauseous, she vividly remembered every blow, everywhere he put his hands. Faith flopped off of her bed and hit the floor hard, crawling to the trash can, she heaved all the alcohol she’d drank into the small trash can fresh tears springing to her eyes.

 

_Just like yer Mother, course you don’t have the stones to run like her do ya Faithy, you’d rather stay right here with Daddy, wouldn’t ya lass?_

 

She heaved again this time nothing coming out, she was light headed when she forced herself to her feet and to the shower, taking care to grab her switchblade from underneath her mattress. She made sure to lock the door, though it was daylight she was positive he was passed out drunk. Just in case though.

 

_Ya look like yer mother, not quite as pretty but you’ll do_

 

Faith scrubbed at her flesh as the scalding hot water simultaneously soothed some injuries, and irritated others. She scrubbed at her flesh until her skin was raw, she still felt dirty. She didn’t know how long she sat in the tub letting the water from the shower run cold, before she finally got out, and pulled on some clothes taking care to put on a jacket to cover bruising and the abrasions made by scrubbing at her skin. Make up covered the bruising on her face, though couldn’t really hide the slight swelling of her cheekbone or lip.

 

She was still light headed but she hadn’t eaten for three days, she needed to eat. She knew how to work this, Faith fished in her room and found sleeping pills and she quickly ground them up into a fine powder and grabbed the bottle of Gin, she poured the powder into the bottle and swished it around until it was gone then crept into her father’s room, heart in her throat. She eyed his jeans discarded on the floor, she needed his wallet, he was too drunk to remember how much money he had. He stirred opening an eye to look at her.

 

“Here,” Faith mumbled putting the bottle on his nightstand, he’d be out for the next day, and she had a reason for being in his room.

 

“Good girl,” he muttered and rolled back over.

 

She should have poisoned him, she could just dump rat poisoning in the bottle. It would be so easy...Faith quickly dropped and pulled out his wallet quickly grabbed some cash and slipped it carefully back into his discarded jeans. She wondered how he managed to even have money.

 

She slipped back out of his room, thinking once again how easy it would be to burn the house down with him in it. So many easy outs, but she didn’t take them. It must have been her fault. She could kill him.

 

She felt a little better once she had food,  the swimminess in her head subsiding. Faith wanted the dizziness back though, not in the form of malnutrition but in the form of inebriation. It was as simple as waiting outside the liquor store and talking someone into buying liquor for her. It still hurt to breathe her face still hurt but liquor would numb it.

 

It was almost like hunting to find a mark, she leaned up against the outside of the liquor store smoking a cigarette waiting for a guy to give her a second look. Not a brief one but a lingering stare and Faith locked eyes with him. A few touches to the face and a bat of her eyelashes and Faith would have them wrapped around her finger. He surrendered a small bottle of Jack to her leering down at her, but Faith stepped back and winked at first the man didn’t seem to comprehend what was going on but Faith was good at disappearing. She slipped around the corner quickly trying not to run and jar her broken ribs, and got herself lost in a back alleyway. Homeless people puttered around but didn’t really give her a second look, mostly shied away. Faith found her own corner and proceeded to make Mr Jack Daniels her close personal friend.

 

\---

Sam was with a study group tonight, and John had insisted Dean go with him. Neither of the boys had been happy about it, but it was the safest thing for them. He taught Dean well, he’d protect the both of them, and call him as soon as the first sign of trouble reared his head. That didn’t keep John from worrying, he thought he’d stay in and research that symbol while he waited on them to come back.

 

A knock at the door caught his attention and he picked up his pistol flicking off the safety. It was already cocked, he didn’t need to waste time cocking the gun. He eased the door open but kept the gun out of sight, he relaxed when he saw the young girl from the other night at the door.

 

“Is Dean here?” She asked him.

 

“No he’s not,” John could smell the liquor on her, but he could also see something else in her pain. Every breath she took seemed to be a struggle, he flashed back to the bruising on her ribs, “Are you okay?”

 

“Yeah...I just...was looking for Dean,” She muttered.

 

She seemed to keep out of arm’s length reach of him when John stepped out she stepped back, but he could see her in the light a little better, while there was no bruising on her face it looked a little swollen, her bottom lip was puffier on one side than the other, but was covered in dark red lipstick. She was wearing a lot of makeup he realized, John cringed as he realized she looked like a battered wife. He cringed and then he was angry.

“Why don’t you come in a minute?” he suggested but she shook her head.

 

“No, _no_ I’m okay,” she muttered her speech slurred.

 

John couldn’t in good conscious let her leave drunk and injured, “Dean will be back soon,” he tried.

 

She shifted contemplating this, he was bigger than her father and she was already hurt. The fear rose in her eyes, and she edged back and shook her head, “I’m fine,” she muttered.

 

“Kid…” John said carefully, he didn’t want her to take off, but short of tackling her wasn’t sure how to stop her. The answer was laid out before him, she had started to run, taking off but only made it to the end of the driveway before she was doubled over grabbing her ribs, letting out an awful pained groan. John easily caught up to her and quickly grabbed her elbow to support her. She jerked away and nearly fell  but he caught her arm and she cringed.

 

“Don’t touch me,” Faith hissed but didn’t struggle much with him.

 

John struggled to shove down the anger that was welling up, something in him knew exactly who hurt the child. Something in him felt responsible, “Faith,” he said carefully, “I promise I won’t do anything don’t have any business doing, but...let me see how bad you’re hurt, don’t bullshit me Kid, I know better, just...come inside.”

 

She lowered her head slightly and relented actually using John as a crutch taking a few steps but she was breathing hard and the barest hint of whimpers escaped her throat. He stopped, “Look Kid, this is gonna hurt you more but it’s gonna be faster okay?” John told her, before picking her up bridal style and moving quickly towards the house.

 

John took her into the kitchen where there was a bit more light and sat her in a chair. The terror was etched in her eyes, but so was the pain.

 

“You wanna tell me what happened?” John asked moving to the freezer and pulling out the ice cube trays.

 

“I was just tryin’ to get a drink,” Faith muttered, she had gotten good at lying about her injuries, she’d even lied to Dean about the bruise on her ribs, “He got me a bottle and I guess he expected more,” she shrugged.

 

John narrowed his eyes, dumping ice cubes into a plastic grocery bag and then wrapping it in a towel he handed it to her. She was lying he could tell immediately, but he wasn’t sure what to do about it. Of course he could be wrong, and if he was it was one hell of a thing to accuse a father of. Something about the look in her father’s eyes when he brought her home still bugged the hell out of him.

 

“How did you break your ribs to begin with?” John asked her.

 

“I didn’t…” she started but seemed to rethink that and she sighed heavily, probably remembering that he’d caught her in a compromising position before that, “I got in a fight, you should see the other chick.”

 

It was the same thing she’d told Dean, she had to make sure the stories didn’t deviate. She felt bad lying, but she’d feel worse telling the truth. She couldn’t bear anyone knowing what he did to her but least of all Dean. She couldn’t deal with the look of disgust it would bring to his pretty green eyes. She didn’t want them knowing that it was her fault she was too afraid to run, or fight back.

 

“Did he break more of them?” John asked her.

 

“I...uh...I don’t know...maybe…” Faith mumbled.

 

“Let me check,” John told her slightly surprised that she put the ice pack to her head.

 

“No,” she shook her head, “I can wrap ‘em when I get home,” she really just didn’t want him to touch her.

 

“Don’t wrap them,” John told her, “Put ice on them, but wrapping them can cause pneumonia,” he hesitated a bit more, “Does your father know?”

 

“No,” Faith shook her head, and swallowed hard.

 

“And this happened today?” He knew.

 

“Yes,” she muttered.

 

“You’re gonna want to make sure you take a deep breath or cough once every hour or so, Ice it, take some painkillers and get some rest, don’t wrap them.” John told her, he’d had more broken ribs than he could count, “You can breath alright?”

 

“It...hurts,” Faith told him.

 

“Yeah, it’s gonna, as long as you can breath,” John replied, then added, “If you want to rest you can sleep here... _on the couch_.”

 

“No, I need to go home,” she muttered as she did move the ice to her ribs, letting out a pained hiss but after a moment it felt better.

 

John sighed heavily and knelt down in front of her to get eye level with her, “I’m gonna ask you a question, and I want you to be honest with me, I promise you can trust me,”

 

Faith didn’t like where this was going, not at all, in fact she was sure she knew, she felt like that man could stare right through her. Like she was lying to a brick wall, the utterly relief came when the front door opened and two voices could be heard.

 

“She is _not_!” Came the smaller younger voice.

 

“She is definitely into you, Sammy, she’d probably be more into you if you’d actually talk to her,” Dean told Sam, as the pair entered the kitchen.

 

“Dad... _Faith_..?” Dean paused.

 

His Dad was angry, Dean could tell right away his lips were pursed in annoyance, apparently they’d interrupted something but Dean knew it was just that. As his gaze fell on Faith, he realized she looked like hell, on closer inspection the older boy could tell she was hurt. If the ice she was pressing to her ribs were any clue.

 

“Where have you been? What happened?” Dean asked eyes wide.

 

She set down the ice and wrapped her arms loosely around him when he approached laying her head on his torso. Dean however, picked up the ice and put it back against her. His opposite hand stroking the top of her head.

 

“You know how I like to get liquor...well...it didn’t work out so well this time, I mean...I still got the liquor…” Faith muttered against him.

 

“Faith...I told you that was a bad idea,” Dean sighed heavily.

 

Faith knew that if she used an excuse that Dean had warned her against Dean was more than likely not gonna question it. A person was more likely to believe that they were right. It still left John to contend with, but Faith felt like he wouldn’t ask in front of Dean. So Faith would avoid being alone with John.

 

“I was just asking her if she wanted to sleep here tonight, on the couch, just to rest,” John said evenly.

 

Now Dean was surprised, his eyebrows shot up and alarms went off in Dean’s head. Dad wasn’t normally that nice. It worried Dean, but he laughed lightly, “Geez how bad were you hurt to make him be nice?”

 

“From what I can tell, her ribs, head and face,” John said evenly crossing his arms, “From what I can tell…” he repeated.

 

She was also wearing long sleeves her jacket had a collar on it, that covered her neck mostly but he had a sneaking suspicion there were bruises around her neck. Dean followed his father’s eyes to her neck, John was trying to tell him something. It was a casual movement when Dean pushed her hair to the side in a soothing manner but he just caught sight of slightly discoloration around her neck. He drew back slightly and Faith looked up at him.

 

“Faith…” Dean started reaching down to push the collar away from her neck, he visibly flinched, there was a nasty purple and yellow bruise around her neck that suspiciously resembled a hand. It also didn’t look like it was done today, “What the hell..?” he breathed out concern etched into his features.

 

She stood up, drawing back from him and wrapping her coat around herself tighter, “I’m gonna go,” she muttered.

 

“Faith please don’t,” Dean reached out for her but she stepped back.

 

She moved surprisingly fast and she was out of the front door before Dean could get a hold of her. He moved to go after her but John put a hand on his shoulder. Dean looked up at his father, “Those...didn’t happen today…” he said carefully.

 

“No...they didn’t,” John confirmed tightening her jaw.

 

“Why would she…?” Dean started to ask the question but he thought he might know the answer he just didn’t want to say it.

 

“I’m gonna handle it,” John said simply.

 

There was a look in John’s eye that made Dean, uncomfortable. It was dangerous, and generally only reserved for the particularly nasty creatures he hunted. Dean was sick to his stomach, could the answer really have been right there? She never wanted to go home, she was always hurt, drinking more often than she liked to tell Dean, but he wasn’t stupid. She was so bold he didn’t recognize fear in her, but the more he thought about it.

 

“You can’t think…” Dean started.

 

“Use your head Dean, you know exactly what’s going on,” John said through gritted teeth.

 

Dean’s anger started to rise as he ran through, certain quirks of hers. She was jumpy, sometimes she didn’t let him touch her at all, even to give her a hug. Her stories didn’t really match up, Dean...knew it, but he ignored it. It made him feel guilty he hadn’t paid more attention, that he hadn’t been so wrapped up in his hormones that he’d actually listened to her. Suddenly he felt John’s hand on his shoulder, like he was reading his mind, his father said softly, “I’ll take care of it.”

 

John didn’t have the intention of being subtle, because whether he was abusing her or someone else was, he was wrong. He was either abusing her, or neglecting her. When John knocked on the door no one answered, he turned the knob and found the door unlocked, but the house was silent. There was a car out front however, he moved silently through the house much like he was hunting. The first room he came upon he was sure was Faith’s. It was empty, she never went back home. He’d have to find her, it was dangerous out there, luckily it was still daylight. There was an empty sleeping pill bottle laying on her dresser and a bit of powder residue around it.

 

He pushed further down the hall and found another room with the door slightly ajar. He pushed it open and found her father halfway off the bed unconscious, there was a bottle of gin on the nightstand. John boldly flipped on the light and the man didn’t stir. He was still breathing, John thought to fix it but he wanted him to be awake. He picked up the bottle by the nightstand, and studied it, Gin...there was a bit of white sediment in the bottom of the bottle, and his mind flashed to the empty pill bottle and he laughed a little, she drugged him.

 

“Good girl,” John muttered taking the little bit left out of the room he poured it down the sink. He also grabbed the pill bottle and wiped the dust from her dresser. He didn’t know how coherent her father was on a normal basis, but it wouldn’t be safe for her if he linked it together. John hoped however, he could find her and talk her into not going home.

 

Finding one teenage girl in Boston was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. What John found instead...was work, a sleeping vampires nest in the nooks he searched. It was actually a simple fix for a few nests, he just shattered the window and let the sunlight do most of the work. Some of them he actually had to kill but they had no where to go and were utterly surprised to find him there.

 

By the time the sun went down he hadn’t found her, he could hunt down monsters just fine but finding a fourteen year old girl, yeah right. He decided it might be best to try back at her house.

 

John made his way back to her house but kept driving around the corner as he saw some extra cars parked out front. He parked his car down the street and walked discreetly to her house. Patrick stood on the porch having terse words with another man.

 

“You’ll git yer fuckin’ money, boy, but right now, yer gunna git off m’porch, or M’gonna shoot yer balls off,” Patrick growled at a younger man dressed in black, upon closer inspection, Patrick indeed had a gun aimed at his balls.

 

“You're gonna regret this Lehane,” his Irish accent was light, but still there, and he was definitely pale...nervous. It made John wonder what kind of shit he was into.

“Please, yer Family is a fuckin’ nobody, no one would miss you or yer balls,” he said cheerfully in response, “I however, owe a few people money..if m’dead I can’t very well pay ‘em back now can I?”

 

John almost laughed at the sound logic coming from someone that had been passed out in his own drool hours before. The man backed to his car, and John caught sight of movement near the side of the house. Faith, she was trying to sneak around the back. If he turned around, he’d see her. John closed his eyes a moment rolling them in annoyance before making a choice, he took a few steps back and moved to the sidewalk to make it look like he was on a casual stroll. As the car backed out, John waved casually to Patrick.

 

“Hey! Um...Patrick right?” John asked trying to keep Patrick looking at him, As Faith crept behind him, freezing in panic, until she realized he didn’t acknowledge her. Only a brief skimmed glance.

 

“You...are…” he thought hard, “John? Right? What’d she do now?”

 

“Oh...no nothing, I was actually looking for my youngest son, he, well you know boys tend to wander off, I was just wondering if Faith might have seen him,” John asked.

 

Patrick looked at him suspiciously, “The lass hasn’t been ‘round today, god forsaken child,” he snorted dismissively. He had his hands clasped behind his back to hide the gun. It wasn’t too discreet but in a casual motion, that a more naive observer wouldn’t have noticed, he had it tucked into the back of his pants.

 

“You’re not the least bit concerned?” John raised his eyebrows crossing his arms.

 

“Seems ya got yer own troubles to worry ‘bout,” he said casually, with a slight smile, a casual way of telling him to mind his damn business, “My trouble always comes back...Don’t ya lass?” He didn’t look away from John, but somehow he knew she was there. His head canted just slightly to the side.

 

Faith froze in place the fear in her eyes, filling John with rage and pain. John could end up in all kinds of shit, if he just took her from him. John wasn’t exactly on the right side of the law. In fact he was wanted, granted the man didn’t strike him as being a law abiding citizen either. However, if he had the right connections the police in this town would look the other way and focus on John. He had his boys to think about, he very tempted to stick a knife in his throat and end it right now, but, he had so much work to do in this town. If John killed him now, he’d have to leave.

 

“If you don’t wanna go in that house, you don’t have to,” John told her carefully.

 

“The ‘ell she doesn’t, I don’t know who the ‘ell ya think ya are, but You and yer boys, need to stay the ‘ell away from M’girl, trust me when I tell ya it’s in yer best interest,” Patrick crossed his arms and started down the other man.

 

John didn’t blink the anger more evident on his face, “Are you threatening me?”

 

“M’ offerin’ ya a bit o’ friendly advice, Ya should take it, ‘fore it gets to be less friendly,” Patrick said darkly.

 

John narrowed his eyes ever so slowly, and tensed, he looked down anger flared up in his eyes, “I’m not your daughter, I’m not afraid of you, don’t you dare threaten me.”

 

“M’not threatenin’ you, but you do ‘ave two boys you ought be worried about, rather than m’child,” Patrick said carefully.

 

“You’d better not be threatening my boys,” John said lowly taking a step toward him.

 

Patrick’s mouth pulled up in a twisted smile that resembled a sneer, “Keep yer son away from m’girl.”

 

“Keep your hands off your daughter,” John replied, he was very close to just shooting him.

  
Patrick smiled and winked and backed towards the house, but didn’t respond. The arrogant look on his face was enough to make him want to break it. Just shatter his face. He had to fix this, but shooting Patrick Lehane before he’d taken care of the vampire problem would put him and his boys in a new kind of danger. Last thing he needed was the mob kicking down his door. It physically hurt him to have to leave her there with him. It was a sick choice to have to make, the safety of his own kids and the entire Boston area over hers. He had to take care of this vampire problem before more people were killed. It made him sick to his stomach.


	3. Problematic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is not for the first time worried about Faith Lehane's absence from school, but after his little chat with his Father, Dean is not willing to let it go this time...despite thinking he had an idea of what was going on, Dean is utterly taken aback.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the feedback guys I appreciate it, I would like to remind everyone that my version of Faith was developed in a unique environment based on RP, and many familiar details are non-canon, (if anything seems weird) thanks for reading the thing, also I apologize for my bad attempt at typing out an Irish accent, I hope it doesn’t offend any Irish Folk

She was missing again, Dean could scarcely pay attention to whatever the teacher was rambling on about. It didn’t make any difference, they wouldn’t stay long, all this stuff was so trivial. In a month or two it would be new people, new school, new state. Faith would even become another face. It was pulling at his mind...he couldn’t stay there he _had_ to go find her.

He was fidgety until the end of class. Dean decided he wasn’t going to the rest of his classes, as long as he was around to get Sammy after he got out of school it would be fine. Sam’s school let out later than his school anyway. The problem was...Dean didn’t know where she lived. She always kept him from finding out some how. There was a bubbly brunette that worked in the office, a student assistant, that laughed a little extra hard when Dean was around and was suddenly very clumsy.

He moved quickly, as she’d just be leaving to go to  _ her  _ first class after working her first period in the Office. He caught her on the way out.

“Hey,” Dean internally panicked as he’d forgotten her name momentarily, outwardly he flashed her a grin, “Headed to class?”

“Dean…I’m a little surprised I didn’t have to check you in this morning...here on time _twice_ this week,” her cheeks were pink but she grinned ear to ear.

“Well, ya know, I missed you so...I figured I’d drop by and see you anyway,” Dean looked her in the eye and before he realized it, her name popped back into his head, “So, how are you, _Amanda_?”

“I’m...good…” she was eyeing him suspiciously, “I feel like you want something but...I don’t know what you could want from me...but whatever it is just _ask_.”

Dean had to give her credit, she wasn’t stupid by any means, she stared down at him with curious hazel eyes, her legs far longer than they should have been, she had a good two inches on Dean, and he wasn’t short, he sighed heavily, “Am I that transparent?”

“Yeah...a little bit...if you want me to alter your attendance record...I can’t it’s turned in every morning before I leave,” she told him.

“No...it’s...nothing like that...um...this is kinda...just...don’t tell anyone?” Dean raised his eyebrows and gave her a hopeful look.

“Dean...what is it?” she said crossing her arms.

“Look...You know Faith right? I’m sure she’s been in here a lot?” Dean asked her.

“Not as often as you’d think, considering she _rarely_ shows up...and when she does...she’s drunk…” Amanda pursed her lips and pushed her wire rimmed glasses back up on her face.

“Look...Amanda, she’s….going through a rough time, but...I think there’s **really** something wrong with her...I want to go check on her but I don’t have her address,” Dean said carefully.

“Dean...I…” she lowered her voice, “You know how much trouble I can get in for that?”

“Amanda, _please_? I think she’s in serious trouble,” he told her.

She ran a hand through her thick brown hair, “Dean she’s always in trouble, that’s kinda her thing.”

“Amanda, this is serious, I think she’s in danger,” the pleading tone in his voice left, giving way to a firm serious stare.

“Why not call the police?” she shot back.

“Because, I could be wrong, I don’t think I am, but...I just want to see if she’s okay, if I need to call the police, I promise I will, but I  _ need  _ to know she’s okay,” Dean replied putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Crap...Dean…” she sighed heavily and pursed her full lips, “Fine, wait here, I can look up her address really quick...and you didn’t get it from me.”

“I owe you,” Dean smiled wanly.

“You really do, and you better not be lying,” she narrowed her eyes.

Dean gave her a sincere look, as the smile faded “Not about something like this.”

She disappeared back inside the office and after a few moments she came back out with a slip of paper, “For what it’s worth, whatever it is, I hope you’re wrong.”

“Me too,” Dean said solemnly, he then kissed her on the cheek, and repeated, “Seriously, I owe you,” with that he darted off.

“Yeah, you do,” she called after him as the bell rang signifying that she was late.

As it turned out, she was three blocks away from where they were staying, but across the tracks. Across the train tracks was a shabier area. Houses a little more run down, likely to find some shady people. Dean however, could take care of himself.

Dean took a bus most of the way and had to walk another block. As he thought once in the neighborhood there were plenty of people hanging out in the street, a few people staring at him a little too long. In many places there were, very nice cars parked in the driveways of not so nice houses. Dean stared at the numbers until he stopped in front of a two story house, it didn’t look so shabby. It actually looked pretty decent, except the need for a paint job. There was no car in the driveway.

He approached the door and first listened quietly to see if he could hear any signs of life. It was silent, he even tried peering into a window, his view was obscured by thick curtains. He hesitated,  his hand hovering at the door, before he knocked on it. No sound came from inside, so he knocked a little louder. He was about to try a new way in when the door opened just a crack.

“Dean what the hell are you doing here?” came Faith’s familiar voice hissing at him from the darkness of the house.

“Faith...I was worried about you…” Dean started, “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” she said curtly, “You can’t  _ be  _ here.”

“Well I’m already here...Faith...please come out, I just want to know that you’re alright,” Dean told her putting his hand on the door in case she tried to shut it on him.

“I’m fine, Dean  _ please,  _ leave,” she muttered.

“I don’t believe you,” he told her flatly.

“You  _ have  _ to go,” she insisted, trying to push the door shut.

Dean’s hand held it firmly and he even pushed it open more, when the light hit her Dean drew in a sharp breath. She wasn’t wearing long sleeves at the moment, just a long baggy tee shirt and shorts. Her skin looked like it had abrasions in various places on her flesh...bruises he hadn’t see before.

“You were lying before...weren’t you?” Dean asked softly but firmly.

“How fuckin’ dare you?” she hissed at him starting to draw back but he reached out and gently grabbed her arm.

“Were you lying about  _ all _ of your bruises?” Dean asked calmly ignoring her angry outburst.

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talkin’ about,” she insisted.

“Did he do all of them?” he asked her.

She flinched a little and looked down, “Just go, Dean,” she mumbled.

He reached up and cautiously pushed the hair from her face, “Faith, I just want to help you.”

“You can’t,” she replied tersely, “If he finds you here, he’ll kill you.”

A cold gleam entered his pretty green eyes, “I’d like to see him try that.”

“Dean, please, just go,” she pleaded with him.

“Not unless you’re coming with me,” he said stubbornly.

“I...can’t…”

He held out his hand to her, his eyes softening, “I won’t let anything happen to you, trust me.”

The sound of a car pulling back in made Dean stiffen, he didn’t look behind him, but at Faith whose eyes filled with a fear that sickened Dean. Faith who was always so bold. He wanted to meet that man that reduced a ballsy girl into a terrified child.

“Dean, you need to run,” Faith told him lowly.

“Nope, I think I’ll say hello, it’s only polite,” he turned from her to stare at the blond man that climbed from his car, his words cold once more.

The first thing he noticed was that he wasn’t very large, definitely decently tall, but he was clearly muscular, his cold blue eyes regarded Dean with his head cocked to the side and a halfway amused look on his face. He didn’t see any anger. He also didn’t rush he walked slowly up towards the porch but didn’t take his eyes from Dean’s.

“What are ya doin’ ‘ere boyo?” he asked casually as he stopped about seven feet in front of Dean to lean casually against the railing.

Dean had seen his own father armed, enough times to know that this man was carrying a weapon. Dean wished he’d have had the forethought to grab a weapon. Dean considered his options, he could play dumb, and he thought maybe that’d be smarter, but the words rolled from his tongue before he could stop them, “Oh...ya know, just...making sure you didn’t beat your daughter to death.”

He heard Faith suck in a breath, Dean ignored her and focused solely on the piece of shit in front of him.

He chuckled softly, no shock or remorse, and once again...no sign of anger, “And O’course Faithy wasn’t even polite enough t’invite you in fer a drink, she’s really got no manners,” he paused a moment then looked passed him at Faith, “Don’t be rude girl, let him it, it’s cold out.”

Faith stepped back reluctantly but kept her head down at the floor. Dean realized it was the same stance she took with  _ his  _ father as well. Dean really didn’t want the other man walking in behind him, but it didn’t seem as if he were going to move. He glanced at the man for a moment before backing into the house slowly. Dean hoped Faith would have told him if there was anyone else in the house, as he was walking in blindly to unfamiliar territory.

Patrick wandered into the house in a rather casual manner, “Faithy, grab a couple beers.”

“I’m good...really,” Dean replied tersely, it wasn’t that Dean didn’t drink...it was that he wasn’t going to drink right now.

“Have a seat Boyo,” he invited, though he himself didn’t sit.

“I’ll stand,” he said crossing his arms.

He shrugged slightly, “So...it runs in the family then? Lack of ability t’mind yer damn business? Does Daddy know yer here?”

“It’s more...concern for another human being that runs in the family,” then he shrugged, “What does it matter, if he does or not?”

Faith brought back two beers and set them down quietly opening one. Her hands trembled and she nearly dropped the bottle opener trying to open the second. Dean clasped a hand over hers and told her, “I’m fine,” of course there were many layers to that statement he was trying to make but she promptly drew her hand from his.

“Well ya see, it  _ does  _ matter, I warned yer father already, I think it’s only fair that I let him, and you know I am  _ very _ serious,” He said with a smirk, he drew his gun from the waist band on his pants.

Dean’s mouth grew dry,  _ shit,  _ this was not how this was supposed to go. His mind nearly blanked in rage when he put the gun to Faith’s head. He  _ knew  _ that Dean was more likely to take a chance at attacking him with it aimed at himself...but not at her...Dean wasn’t sure if he’d really shoot her or not...and wasn’t even sure where he was going with this...but he didn’t want to take a chance.

“On yer knees girl, show the boy who ya belong to,” he purred wickedly.

Dean’s stomach lurched, “No way in hell...over my dead body.”

He shrugged, “That could be arranged,” he cocked the gun, “Faithy…”

Dean’s raged nearly blinded him when she indeed lowered herself to her knees. He shouldn’t have taken the chance with her life...but he couldn’t very well watch this happen. It was stupid...but he launched his body at the man, jumping over Faith, the gun went off but missed him, much to his surprise, the older man caught Dean by his shirt and slammed him into the floor. His sheer nearly unnatural strength surprised Dean, as he was yanked and slammed into the wall face first.

Dean was all ready to fight back once the surprise wore off but now he had a gun to the back of his head, the man was far too close for comfort. He was pressed against him and laughing in a throaty manner that creeped him out.

“Someone probably called the police ya know,” Dean tried.

“No...not in this town, they know better, even if they did, they police know better, someone’s probably on their way...not the police,” the Irishman told him, “You know...I could tear a pretty little boy like you up.”

Dean stiffened, there was no way in hell...that he was implying what he thought he was  implying. Dean would rather be shot in the head. That thought made him flinch inwardly, as he wondered how many times Faith thought the same thing. It made him angry.

“Now...no worries I’ll only kill you if you make me, I’d much rather send ya back to daddy alive,” he sneered his lips brushing his ear as he spoke.

Faith was nearly panicked it was one thing for Patrick to do whatever he wanted to her...but not to Dean. Her father didn’t seem to be paying attention to her at the moment and she carefully reached for the cordless phone, before moving slowly and carefully behind the couch and quickly punched in the number for Dean’s house, and covered the earpiece as she heard John Winchester’s voice.

_ “Hello?”  _

_ “Dean? Who is this?” _

If she spoke...he’d hear her, but she had to take the chance, she whispered, “It’s Faith...Dean’s in trouble,” she breathed into the phone.

“Faith, what the hell are ya doin’?” She heard Patrick demand.

She hung up the phone and stuffed it under the couch, and peered out from behind it hoping he didn’t hear her actual words and just the sound of her whispered voice, “I…” she cleared her throat.

“Speak girl,” he growled his head turned to look at her.

“Pl-please…” she’d started but it seemed Dean saw his opening and took it.

He reached behind him and grabbed the barrel at the same time ducking, Patrick pulled the trigger and the bullet went into the wall. The sound was deafening, Dean’s ears rang, and the barrel burned his hand. He didn’t let go until his finger found the little switch to turn the safety on.

He drew his hand back leaving a little burnt flesh on the gun. He pulled the trigger again and it clicked harmlessly so he hit the boy in the mouth with it. Dean head butted him, and punched him in the solar plexus.

Faith watched in horror as the pair tussled around the house, furniture broke and crashed to the ground. The tumbled through the glass coffee table knocked over the TV. Her father grabbed a piece of broken glass in his hand, and once again...Faith panicked. He had Dean pinned down and he pressed the glass to his jugular.

“You really thought you could win this, Lad, You’ve got a thing or two t’learn,” he sneered down at him.

John couldn’t possibly get there fast enough, Faith steeled herself and moved carefully from around the back of the couch and picked up a broken table leg. He’d pressed forward a little on the glass cutting Dean’s flesh. Faith drew her weapon back and hit him in the back of the head. He head snapped forward and he whirled around to stare at her, it was the first time the real anger showed on his face. She froze in place.

There were footsteps on the wooden porch, too many to be John.

“Patrick!” came the voice of another Irishmen as two men pushed open the door guns draw.

“In ‘ere,” he replied, “Since yer ‘ere, give me a ‘and will ya?”

They seemed to relax when they saw it was two kids, one of them being his. One of them grabbed Faith by the back of the neck and shoved her for the couch. He then plopped down next to her, and threw an arm around her in a friendly manner.

The other moved to Patrick’s side, Patrick was peering back down at Dean, his own hand bleeding from how tight he clutched the broken glass, “I just need you to dump his body somewhere very public, when I’m finished with him.”

It didn’t take John long to get in the car after the cryptic message from...Faith? He wasn’t far but if there was a problem he couldn’t barge in the front door. John moved around back with his gun drawn. He peered through the window and saw her father and two other men, fury seeping into him when he saw that Patrick had Dean pinned to the ground. Dean wasn’t moving to fight with him but he couldn’t see why. He knew right then, if he wanted to continue his work in Boston, he’d have to kill all three of them, and take the kids to Bobby’s.

He lined up the shot through the window, two quick shots and the lackies were dead, Patrick dropped to the ground groping the ground for his gun. Dean nearly forgotten, his eyes on the shattered window but John was nowhere to be seen. Until he kicked in the back door. Patrick had  grabbed his gun and aimed it, but Dean picked up the same table leg Faith had hit him with and hit in again in the side of the skull with all the strength he could muster.

“Dean, take Faith and get out of here,  _ now, _ ” John growled his eyes fierce.

Patrick blinked rapidly the world lurching for the first time, as he tried to shake off the blow. He was trying to push himself to his feet when he was hauled upward by the back of his neck, only for his face to meet John’s knee. He grumbled curse words in a language John thought was Irish. John was going to shoot him...he most certainly intended on hitting him until he stopped moving.

Dean tried to grab Faith but her eyes were wide, her face splattered with the blood of the man that had been sitting next to her, he was now slumped over on her dead. She trembled, her eyes were transfixed on the fight.

  
“Faith...come on,” Dean tugged her arm, but she didn’t budged.

“If she won’t leave on her own, carry her out for all I care just get her the hell outta here, Dean,” He snapped as Patrick tackled him into the wall, and through it, the drywall not holding up for the likes of those two men.

Dean nodded and did indeed scoop her up, she didn’t protest, she actually wrapped her arms around his neck and he carried her out bridal style. He gritted his teeth against the pain of the cuts and bruises that littered his body as his mind wondered how often she felt like  _ this,  _ and just simply ignored it. He stroked her hair softly muttering that it would be okay.

Sam wasn’t home from school yet the house was quiet but the lights were on indicating that John had dropped what he was doing and left. Faith squirmed out of his arms and silently nudged Dean into a chair.

“What?” Dean asked complying but giving her a weird look.

“Need to bandage you up,” Faith told him.

“Me? What about you?” Dean huffed indignantly.

“I just...need a shower,” she muttered.

Dean nodded, “I’ll get you a towel so you can take a shower, and rest, don’t worry about me I can bandage myself up,” he told her.

Faith reached out and took his injured hand gingerly, flipping it over to examine the burn from the gun, her finger brushed over the cut along his neck. His lip was split and he was pretty sure his jaw was dislocated, his eye was bruised, and his body hurt.

“I’m sorry,” Faith muttered to him.

Dean reached out with his virtually uninjured hand, and tipped her face upward, “This isn’t your fault, Faith.”

“I…” she started and her shoulders slumped a little, “...um...where’s the shower?”

Dean sighed a little and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and led her up the stairs to the shower. He grabbed her a towel and silently went into the bathroom and ran the water for her. He handed her the towel and shut the door behind her as he stepped out, going downstairs to clean his own wounds. 

 


	4. Safe house

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John takes the three kids to Bobby's house and Faith finds that she can relate to Bobby better than anyone really expected

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this has taken so long, I figured I needed to force myself to write something, before I let it go stagnant I hope it's okay

It had been a long drive to Bobby's. It had taken even longer to convince Faith to go with them. In the end it was Dean who finally talked her into packing the few things she wanted to take with her, but she nearly changed her mind at the last minute and a firm word from John got her in the car.

He felt a little bad because he knew she was still scared of him. She thought he'd killed her Father and somehow that made him more terrifying to her. He didn't though, but not for lack of trying, he'd been severely hurt John didn't know how he managed to survive. He'd let him out of his sight just for a moment, figuring he'd drown in his own blood, but when he came back Patrick was gone. He followed a trail of blood the man left and then it suddenly cut off near a road, John figured someone must have picked him up.

Now outside of Bobby's junk yard the girl stood staring at the house in front of her like it was foreboding. Sam ran to greet Bobby cheerfully as the man waited on his front porch. Dean nudged her forward gently, his arm around her waist she pressed into his side. John leaned against the impala, arms crossed of his chest. He'd already called Bobby and explained the situation.

Bobby's reaction had initially been annoyed. John Winchester had gotten himself into some shit again and he needed Bobby.

_"What would you have done Bobby?" John had demanded of his friend._

_There'd been a long silence, "Shot him in the knee caps and made him kneel in shit."_

It had earned a hearty laugh from John, John wished he'd have thought of that, bastard wouldn't have dragged himself off then.

He blinked back to the present as Bobby approached to greet the girl. Amusingly the girl stood a bit straighter and flicked her eyes over him. She was sizing him up. Dean said she was normally really scrappy, of course John hadn't a chance to see her actual personality shine through her fear. He didn't want to tell her that her father wasn't dead. It was unlikely she'd ever hear from him again, not if he knew what was good for him.

"Faith right?" Bobby asked holding out a hand to her.

After a moment, she shook his hand and nodded.

"M'Bobby, bring yer ass inside it's cold," Bobby told her, gesturing with his head for them all to follow.

Faith paused in the doorway to examine the inside, making note of windows and exit points. It was a habit she got into, "Go on," John encouraged from behind her.

Bobby handed John a beer he'd retrieved from the fridge that he'd opened for him. He handed the kids bottles of soda, his eyes flicking about. John chuckled and drank the beer. He knew what it was...Bobby just had to make sure. Every one of the drinks hid a small amount of holy water...just in case.

He wondered how long before they had to tell Faith what they did. How long could they keep her out of it. Being that many hunters came to Bobby, it probably would be long. He hoped the girl got a few days rest first.

"I set up a couple rooms upstairs, Dean yer sharin' a room with Sammy," Bobby added that last part firmly and Dean held up his hands.

"Yeah yeah, I got it," Dean replied.

Honestly Bobby didn't know how to set up a room for a girl, it was plain and colorless but it was a hell of a lot better than where she came from. John knew damned well Bobby would take her in as soon as he explained what happened. Bobby himself came from an abusive home, his father was an alcoholic. It was a sore point for him. He wouldn't refuse her.

She seemed reluctant to step away from Dean's side for Bobby to show her the room. Dean had started to offer to go with him but Bobby shook his head. Her attachment to him could become unhealthy if it wasn't nipped in the bud quickly. Dean was too young to deal with someone becoming codependent on him. She was too young to form an attachment like that. She needed to learn that there were several other good people in the world as well. It would take time, he had no illusions about that, but taking all the time she needed was better than her coming to rely on Dean for safety.

After a bit of encouragement from Dean, she did go with him. Bobby walked in front of her with his hands in his pockets, careful not to make any sudden moves, "You can stay here as long as you need to, yer safe here, no one is going to hurt you, and if anyone tries, you let me know and I'll blow their damned head off," he offered a small smile.

She let out a light chuckle, "Thanks," she muttered biting the inside of her cheek nervously, "Um...you don't have to...do that...I mean, I don't wanna bother anyone I'll be fine on my own," she started.

"Girl don't be an idjit, stay here, get some rest we can talk in the morning," Bobby told her.

She laughed a little, "Okay,"

After he got the kids settled he went to talk to John, "Is he dead?"

"Nope," John's jaw clenched, "She don't know that, and she don't need to, I'll find that bastard again."

Bobby sighed, "I hope ya do,"

"Might even take your advice," John added.

"I sincerely hope ya do," Bobby grinned a little.

The sound of shattered glass broke off the conversation and both men paused before taking off up the stairs. Dean was knocking on Faith's door and tried the handle. It was locked.

"Faith, please open the door," Dean tried.

"What the hell happened?" Bobby asked Dean.

"I don't know, the door's locked," Dean shrugged worry etched into his green eyes.

"Faith open the door or I'll break it," John told her sharply, Bobby gave him a sharp look. Too soon to be that harsh. It was however, effective, she pulled open the door and stepped back.

Her head was down and her fist was bleeding, shards of broken glass in the wound. A mirror that hung on the wall was shatter with smears of blood on it. Fragments littered the floor, her shoulders slumped, "Sorry," she muttered.

"Darlin'..." Bobby broke a little and thoughtlessly reached out and pulled her into a hug. When she stiffened he nearly let her go until she slumped into him, her face was hot and his shirt was damp with her fresh tears falling from her face.

Dean stepped back ushering Sammy back to their room. Dean paced a little unsure if this was the time to give her space or not.

"Need to clean and bandage that," John said after a moment. His face was blank, but he was glad he didn't kill Patrick yet...he had the strong urge to kill him right at that moment.

After a moment she pulled away from Bobby and nodded, hastily wiping tears from her eyes, "Sorry I can do it," she said quickly.

John shook his head, "Come on," he beckoned with his head.

He led her into Bobby's kitchen and Bobby brought his First Aid kit as John started to pluck the bigger pieces of glass from her hand. Bobby set the First Aid kit down and he used tweezers to pull out the small pieces, she barely flinched.

"What happened?" he asked after a moment, as he pour peroxide over the wound. She flinched then but otherwise she still didn't really acknowledge that she was in any pain. It made John wonder how many times she did this herself.

"I got tired of looking at myself," she admitted after a moment.

John tilted his head to the side but Bobby got it. After so much abuse you started to have a distorted view of yourself. It's your fault, you are responsible for everything that has occurred. Not to mention whatever insults your abuser used to keep you down.

"Faith, ya didn't do anythin' wrong, he did," Bobby told her firmly.

He didn't expect the response he got from her, she whirled her head around to look at him, "Isn't it though? He passed out drunk enough times I could have killed him in at least ten different ways but I didn't, I didn't do anything."

"Yer just a kid, you shouldn't have had to even THINK about that," Bobby replied insistently. He shouldn't have had to kill his own father.

"I've never been a kid, and what the hell do you know about it?" She demanded.

Bobby was quiet for a moment but held eye contact with her, his lip curled into a bitter smile, "More'n you'd think."

She blinked in slight surprise, staring at him in shock. She honestly didn't understand, she couldn't comprehend his words. She knew what he meant but she couldn't understand how someone like him could have been treated like she was. She was weak, he didn't seem that way at all.

Bobby could almost see her mind struggling to wrap around this. He slowly reached out and put a hand on her head. She flinched and little Bobby drew back.

"Head still hurts," she muttered in explanation.

John had let the pair talk for a bit but at the mention John plucked a pin light from Bobby's first aid kit and leaned forward, "Come here,"

She hesitated but complied after a moment, he passed the light over her eyes and stared into them intently.

"Left pupil constricts slower than the right, I'd keep an eye out for any other signs of brain damage, probably have a lot of headaches," John told them both.

Faith put a hand into her hand feeling the lump on her head she sighed a little. John drew in a breath and let it out, as it seemed there was something else he wanted to tell her. He hesitated, there was a certain awkwardness that made her arch an eyebrow, he'd been pretty blunt so far. His eyes flicked from Bobby to her and back again.

"You, uh, might wanna take her to one of them Woman's doctors, make sure everything is...okay," John said carefully.

"Gynecologist?" Faith snorted, "Yeah...no thanks I've had enough people poking around down there."

Bobby sighed heavily and shooed John away, John frowned a little surprised at how the girl got along with Bobby. It was a better fit than he'd have guessed. John obliged hoping Bobby could talk to her less awkwardly.

"Okay...look, I'mma be real blunt, 'cause I don't know how else to be, but you want to go to that doctor to make sure that bastard didn't get ya pregnant," Bobby leveled her with a stare.

Her jaw tightened and she felt nauseous at the thought of him leaving anything in her, "Can't I just...pee on a stick?"

"Ain't always accurate...you want to be sure," Bobby told her, "We'll make sure it's a lady doctor."

She sighed heavily, he was right, she slumped down in the seat and grumbled her compliance.

"It'll be alright, Darlin', I promise," Bobby told her softly, "Get some rest."

Faith bit her lip a little and looked up at him, "I...can't...I left my knife," she admitted sheepishly, "I know it's kinda stupid but...I just..." she shrugged, "Some girl's have a teddy bear, some have a blanket...I have a knife."

"Well...shit darlin' I got plenty," Bobby chuckled softly, "Come on."

She followed Bobby into the living room where John peered at Bobby questioningly and Bobby nodded, confirming he did indeed manage to talk her into it. He moved to a drawer in his living room and plucked out a large hunting knife and held it toward's her handle first.

She took it from his hand gingerly before she examined it thoroughly even testing it's weight and balance in her hand. It had a smaller handle than most Bobby thought it would fit her well, he seemed to be correct and she seemed to handle the blade well.

She smiled, "Thanks,"

"Now get some sleep," Bobby jerked his head toward the stairs, and she complied.

After a bit, Dean came down, "Is...everything alright?"

"Yeah...it is now...well...as alright as it's gonna be, it'll take her some time," Bobby told him, "There ain't gonna be anything you can do to make it easier, be considerate but don't coddle her, ain't sayin' you should be an asshole if she needs something but just...try not to walk on eggshells around her, if something sets 'er off, remember not to do it again, that's all."

Dean nodded then his eyes flicked to John, "You're leaving now aren't you?"

"Yeah," he said shortly.

"Can I come with you?" Dean asked, "I could help."

"No, ain't safe, I'll have the mob and them undead cockroaches huntin' me, stay here, I'll be back," John told him, "Take care of Sammy."

Dean drew in a breath and let it out then nodded. Sam was now sitting on the stairs looking a bit sullen. He ran down the stairs and wrapped his arms around John who smiled halfway and rested a hand on his head, "And you? I need ya to look after Faith alright? She's had a rough go of it," he told Sam who nodded fervently.

"I will," he promised.

With that John left and Dean put his arm around Sam. It was hard knowing that each time could be the last time. At least this time it wasn't in some shit bag motel.


	5. Adjusting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dealing with emotions in the aftermath of an abusive situation is hard for everyone, adjusting to living in a non abusive situation is hard on Faith. But who is that strange British man trying to get to Faith anyway?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HA HA,IT IS I, She who is bad at summaries, anywho sorry this took so long, hopefully the next chapter will be up sooner, thanks for your support guys

_ “Did ya think ya could get away, Faithy?” Her father’s monstrously contorted face lunged for her.  _ Faith jumped awake in cold sweat. Her hand was wrapped around the knife Bobby had given her two weeks earlier. She held it in her trembling hand trying to slow her breathing. She’d seen those monsters before in her dreams, but never her father as one. There was a certain sense of foreboding about this particular nightmare. 

 

She leaned over the side of her bed and fished a bottle of Jack hidden under it and took a swig. The familiar burn calmed her nerves as she listened to the silence of the house. It creaked and groaned, but there was no sign of life. She flicked her gaze at the clock, three am. She sighed heavily and threw her legs over the side of the bed, her heart still thudding in her chest. She was surprised Bobby wasn’t awake as she walked out of her room a pack of cigarettes in hand, he didn’t seem to sleep too much. She quietly slipped out the front door to stand on the porch lighting her cigarette she took a long drag and let it out slowly tension in her releasing with the breath. Bobby didn’t like her smoking but he tolerated it, he told her John wouldn’t. Bobby was absolutely against her drinking, hence the reason the bottle was hidden. 

 

All at once Faith was aware something was off. Just a slight sound that could have been anything, squinting to see in the dim light she saw a person standing at edge of Bobby’s property, they didn’t set foot on it though. The person appeared to be male and was dressed in all black, the cigarette hung from her mouth as she stared at him. Her heart stopped as she assumed he was one of her Father’s Mobster goons. 

 

“Faith? Faith Lehane?” the man had an English accent which caught her off guard, definitely not Irish, his voice was low but carried in the silence “Ms. Lehane, please, I need to talk to you it’s urgent, I’m not here to hurt you.” 

 

Faith blinked and dumbly she started down the pathway, “What do you want?” she questioned slowly when she was at the halfway point. 

 

“I just want to talk, Have you been havin’ weird dreams?” he asked her. 

 

“W-what? My dreams...how do you…?” she started, the sound of a shotgun cocking behind her however, cut off the question. 

 

“Faith get back in the house,” Bobby’s voice cut through the night air. 

 

“But...I think he…” Faith started looking back at Bobby. 

 

“Get in the house, Faith now!” Bobby snapped more firmly. 

 

Faith listened this time scurrying, mostly inside, but standing behind Bobby. 

 

“Mr. Singer, it’s not what you think,” the man pled with him. 

 

“One,” Bobby started. 

 

“It’s really important that we speak to her,” 

 

“Two,” Bobby took a step forward and braced himself. 

 

At this point the man took his cue and backed away holding up his hands and disappearing down the street in a hurried walk. Bobby stood stiffly for a moment, his eyes scanning the front lawn.  Before turning her and huffing in an exasperated manner, “Git yer ass inside, ya ain’t even wearin’ pants girl what th’hell were ya thinkin’? Wandering down after some stranger at three in the god damned morning?” 

 

Faith shrugged sheepishly, “He wasn’t Irish so I wasn’t concerned.” 

 

“Girl, I swear, put that damned cigarette out, and if you don’t start putting some damned pants on,” Bobby grumbled. 

 

Faith rolled her eyes and sighed heavily pinching the tip to save the rest for later. Bobby still was looking out the window checking for any other signs that something was amiss.  _ We.  _ Bobby wanted to know who this,  _ We,  _ was. Without running into them again though there was no way to know. 

 

“Go back to bed,” Bobby mumbled making it clear that he intended to stay awake. 

 

She went back upstairs quietly looking behind her to see if Bobby followed her up. When he didn’t Faith slipped into Dean and Sam’s room. Quietly she slid into the bed next to Dean, Dean shifted and blinked then gave a sleep smile before adjusting himself around Faith. 

 

“Bobby’s gonna kick my ass,” Dean whispered sleepily into her ear, before he was once again fast asleep. 

 

Faith woke up with Sam’s earnest face shaking Dean, “Bobby’s in the shower, Faith you might wanna go back to your room now,” he whispered. 

 

Light poured into the room, and Faith blinked a little confused at first it took her a moment to process his words. Dean chuckled softly, “Good lookin’ out Sammy,” Dean stretched a little and nudged Faith in encouragement, “He’s right, go on,” Dean kissed her temple affectionately. Faith sighed and grumbled but muttered a thanks to Sam as she stood reaching out and ruffling his hair then kissing him atop his head. As soon as the door shut quietly behind her, Sam looked at Dean and smirked, “I think she likes me better.” 

 

“Yeah dream on Bitch,” Dean huffed throwing a pillow at him. 

 

“Jerk,” Sam huffed dodging the pillow. 

 

Faith instead of going back to her room wandered downstairs, curiously she went outside moving to the end of the pathway where the man had stood the night before. She didn’t know what she was looking for. Her eyes scanned up and down the road, before they fell on a small white card laying in the dirt. She picked it up and it had a phone number scratched on it.  _ Diana Dormer. 555-1847.  _

 

The familiar rumble of a car could be heard in the distance and her head turned towards the sound to see the black Impala coming up the road. She was a bit surprised to see John parking the car on the side of the road. At this point the boys had heard the car too and had run out. 

 

“Girl what they hell are you doing out here without pants on?” John demanded sharply. 

 

She flinched a little and looked down, it turned out he still scared her. Now he didn’t soften just stared her down. 

 

“Well I was considering prostitution, but I have to check out the corners to see which one is likely to get me the most business,” Faith mutter still not looking at him but it didn’t stop her sarcastic remark. 

 

“Get your ass inside, and put on some goddamned pants, smart ass,” John snapped resisting the urge thunk her in the back of the head, he did soften seeing both of his boys out front, “Hey boys, Where’s Bobby?” 

 

“Right here,” Bobby freshly showered made his way to the porch and frowned, “Got damn it girl, what they hell did I tell you about pants?” 

 

“Only heathens wear pants?” Faith looked up and grinned at him cheekily. 

 

“Faith,” John snapped, the tone enough to make her dip her head and scurry inside. 

 

Dean was biting his lip to stop a snicker from escaping, once he adjusted his face he looked at his father, “So...are you done there?” 

 

“Naw, this is gonna be a long one,” John muttered. 

 

Dean thought that he  _ must  _ need help or else he wouldn’t have driven this far.

 

Once inside Faith disappeared presumably to dress herself more appropriately so the older men wouldn’t continue to be on her case. Honestly Faith wasn’t normally encouraged to put more clothes on. It wasn’t even a thought most of the time. The fact that both of the older males in her life now were insistent that she wear them was almost unfathomable to her. 

 

When she came back downstairs, now wearing a pair of ungodly tight jeans and a tank top too smaller for John’s comfort, she huffed, “Better?” 

 

“Hell no,” John said tersely. 

 

“Well, I could take it off,” Faith snapped, tossing up her arms in frustration. 

 

John stood up swiftly and Bobby rose to meet him, “John, pick your battles, she put on more clothes leave it at that,” Bobby told him firmly. John let out a frustrated growl but lowered himself back into the chair, muttering about how frustrating girls were. 

 

“Oh shit, John ya ain’t even been here more than ten minutes, give ‘er time, she gets more frustrating,” Bobby snorted dismissively, then looked back at Faith, “But if anyone else comes over yer puttin’ on a t-shirt okay?” 

 

“Fine,” Faith shrugged rolling her eyes, “Why don’t I just wear a nun outfit?” 

 

“Not a bad idea,” John muttered. 

 

“Oh good, I think they sell them at the store down the way right next to the condoms and handcuffs,” Faith said cheerfully disappearing quickly into the kitchen as to not catch John’s wrath for that one. 

 

“I swear to…” John glared after her, and Bobby chuckled softly. 

 

“You ain’t been here John, of course she’s gonna test ya, she’s gonna see how many lines she can cross before ya snap, I noticed she’s like that, she tried it with me…” Bobby told him. 

 

“And?” John tilted his head to the side. 

 

“We had a long chat, through the basement door because I locked her down there, we came to an understanding,” Bobby grinned but grew serious, the amused grin fading slightly, “That no matter how much she pushed I wasn’t gonna hit her, but she ain’t gonna run all over me either, we drank a beer behind the woodshed with my father, and I told her she ain’t drinkin’ in here anymore.” 

 

John just blinked cracking a small smile and shaking his head. 

 

“Of course every once in awhile she’s gonna test me, she’s a kid, that’s what they do, but you two will have to find yer own way to communicate,” Bobby shrugged, “I looked up that Mark ya sent me, The Mark of Kakistos, apparently an old as hell soulless blood sucker, ugly son of bitch, controls that whole area.” 

 

Dean was attentive to this conversation, but Sam slipped from his spot and into the kitchen after Faith. 

 

“Faith? Why is there a Nun outfit next to condoms and handcuffs?” Sam tilted his head to the side. 

 

Faith stared at him and then burst into laughter her hand clapping over her mouth. 

 

“What’s so funny? Shouldn’t there be a police outfit next to handcuffs? Nuns don’t carry handcuffs,” Sam’s face furrowed when the more he spoke the more she laughed. 

 

“Sammy,” she choked out, “I need you to do me a favor, right now, right this very minute,” 

 

“Yeah?” Sam tilted his head to the side.

 

“Please go ask your father right now,” Faith tried to contain herself. 

 

“Now but they’re doing somethin’ important” Sam told her looking back over his shoulder. 

 

“No...really, right now,” Faith bit her lip. 

 

“Um….okay…” Sam looked at her oddly but shrugged, and walked back out and hopped back into her chair. Both Bobby and his father seemed to be discussing something lowly. 

 

“How many?” Bobby asked with a frown. 

 

“I don’t know, but it’s best she don’t find out,” John replied. 

 

“Well no shit, probably shouldn’t mention Vampires at all to her,” Bobby huffed. 

 

Sam waited for a break in the conversation, knowing full and well Faith was trying to get him to do something for her own amusement, and honestly Sam only obliged her because she was pretty, “Dad, Why  _ is  _ the Nun costume next to the handcuffs and condoms?” 

 

Dean’s mouth dropped open, but he couldn’t hide the laughter, as Bobby and John stared at his little brother. 

 

“I was just thinking shouldn’t a Police costume be next to the handcuffs, and Faith said I should ask you instead of her….so….”

 

At this point even Bobby was laughing softly, and John was staring at him still in disbelief, “Bobby...I’m gonna kill her.” 

 

Bobby laughed more openly now, “No you ain’t.” 

 

Faith now stood in the doorway of the kitchen with a grin on her face, “Well I didn’t think it was my job to explain it to him.” 

 

John shot her a dirty look, and luckily Bobby came to his rescue, “That’s somethin’ you’ll figure out when you’re older, or when you nag yer brother enough,” he added the last part with an eyeroll, he shot a look to Faith who was looking at John staring her down. 

Faith shifted her face into one of innocence, looking for all intents and purposes like a little girl. John tried really hard to hold the glare, but in spite of this he softened, “Ya think your funny don’t ya?” 

 

“I happen to know I am hilarious,” Faith said flatly, “You cracked I win, you can’t be mad.” 

 

She disappeared upstairs, with slight chuckle. Sam took it upon himself to also disappear at that point. The humorous intervention however, didn’t take the weight off a serious situation. Vampire activity in Boston was going down sharply, but the few vampires he did encounter were Irish mobsters. It was Dean who asked first, “Do you think, it’s her father? I mean...if he was hurt, he’d have been an easy target.” 

 

John drew in a breath and let it out, “I...do think that is probably the case, but...their lack of activity…” 

 

“Gettin’ ready to do somethin’,” Bobby nodded, “Great...vampires and organized crime and an abusive probably pissed of vampire father, led by a vampire that’s a couple millenniums old, couldn’t be better.” 

 

“Don’t say that,” John scrubbed his face. 

 

Faith clutched the phone in her hand and hesitantly dialed the number on the card that had been clutched tightly in her hand. 

 

“Ms. Lehane?” A British woman’s voice spoke over the phone. 

 

“Who are you?” Faith asked. 

 

“Did the imbecile forget to leave my name? Christ Jacob,could you be any creepier?”  the woman huffed. 

 

“No, no he did...I mean, If you’re Diana Dormer, but...WHO are you?” Faith asked. 

 

“Have you been having strange dreams?” she asked her, when the line fell silent Diana kept talking, “Girls dying, being killed by monsters, in different times, maybe, A chinese girl, during the boxer rebellion? An African woman on the subway? Killed by a blond man? What about a blonde girl during the Salem Witch Trails?” 

 

“Who are they?” Faith asked quietly. 

 

“I can explain everything to you, but it’s better that we meet in person, Can we do that?” she asked her. 

 

“When?” Faith asked, not even considering HOW she was going to explain this. 

 

“Tonight? If you can slip away, Two O’clock? Write down this address,” 

 

Faith scratched down the address given on the card, and stuffed it in her pocket. Only after she hung up did she began to plan just how she was going to escape. She just needed to make sure she had time to get away, if they noticed so be it, as long as they didn’t find her. 

 

Sam stood outside the door quietly having heard Faith’s half of the conversation. He frowned slightly wondering if he should tell someone. Maybe if it became important, he considered telling Dean but clearly this was private. Sam quickly went to his room as he heard footsteps coming up the stairs, Dean’s footsteps, he knew, probably coming to check on Faith.

 

It was awkward for Faith when Bobby forced three Winchesters and her to all sit down and have a meal together. Much to her father’s endless disappointment, Cooking was never a skill Faith picked up. Faith at times had been forced to sit on the floor next to his chair like a pet, and sometimes even awkwardly across from him, if he was in a good mood or right next to him where John sat. Bobby sat at the head of the table and Sam and Dean faced her and John. 

 

Sam chatted away about a book he was reading, more likely to fill the silence, while Bobby flicked his gaze around the table trying to figure out how to make this less awkward. 

 

“So do you have any fun hobbies?” Sam asked Faith trying to prod her out of the daze she was in awkward poking her food. 

 

Faith shrugged, “There was a Quarry not too far away from my house, used to cliff dive there, um this cool Scottish dude worked with my Father, he taught me how to screw people over playing poker and win money, that’s fun.” 

 

Dean chuckled softly, “Yeah it’s kinda satisfying isn’t it?” then he frowned, “I find it hard to believe there was anyone decent working with your father.” 

 

“I mean,” she shrugged, “Decent is relative right? He’s a trained assassin, but he was cool to me.” 

 

John turned his head to look at her, and nearly asked why the guy never put Patrick out of  _ her _ misery, but decided against it, “Careful you don’t screw the wrong people over.” 

 

“What are they going to do kill me? I’ve had worse,” Faith chuckled bitterly, looking at her plate and finally stuffing some of it into her mouth. 

 

“We don’t make jokes about death at the table Faith,” Bobby said flatly. 

 

“We don’t?” John slowly looked at Bobby. 

“Well it ain’t ever really come up John, but no we don’t,” Bobby rolled his eyes, “We’ve had to go over a list.” 

 

“Apparently there’s no penis jokes, sex jokes, jokes at the expense of all men, drug references, boobs jokes, vagina jokes, Jokes at the expense of Bobby, all work and no play makes Bobby a dull boy,” Faith smirked. 

 

“Okay I ain’t been gone  _ that _ long, how did you have time to need to make all those rules?” John looked incredulously. 

 

“I have talents, and being obnoxious is my best one,” Faith smirked, then frowned and looked at Dean with an even more sly grin, “Well...it’s really a toss between bl-” 

 

“Girl if you finish that sentence I will flush  _ all  _ of your cigarettes,” Bobby threatened. 

 

“Blowing bubbles, Christ, Bobby where is your mind?” Faith looked shocked and appalled. 

 

“I’m jealous of Bubbles,” Dean muttered, chuckling. 

 

“Dean...” John said tersely making Dean’s face fall quickly as Dean stuffed food in his mouth and looked down. 

 

Faith laughing however, didn’t do anything to help Dean. 

 

“Faith,” Bobby frowned really wanting to cuff her in the back of the head but thinking better of it, though as if John read his mind, and decidedly NOT thinking better of it he DID just that. 

 

Faith flinched and ducked her head down, Dean looked up at his Father wanting to protest but he closed his mouth when he saw Bobby trying to decide how he felt about it. Faith froze in place as if waiting.  _ Waiting for him to hit her again.  _

 

“I didn’t hurt you,” John said after a moment, but his tone was softer than the words, after a pause he added, “And I’m not gonna, I’m not gonna treat you different than my boys...except...ya know yer a girl.” 

 

“So are you gonna bitch at them about their clothes?” Faith asked quietly using humor to try and break her nervousness and force herself to relax. 

 

“If they ever come out in tight pants and a tiny top, we might have to have a conversation,” John huffed. 

 

“Dean…” Faith looked up at him with a grin. 

 

“Not a chance,” Dean replied immediately. 

 

“Bet I could talk ya into it,” she winked. 

 

John quirked an eyebrow when Dean looked down immediately, his eyes cut to Faith, “Oh...we’re gonna have to have a long talk.”

 

“Maybe I should handle that?” Bobby arched an eyebrow. 

 

“Nope, I got it Bobby,” John replied. 

 

“Is this gonna be the Birds and the Bees talk? Because you are WAY late for that, like...waaayyy late.” Faith snorted. 

 

John’s jaw tightened, and he visibly tensed. The knowledge of exactly WHY she wasn’t a virgin, made him sick. She was fourteen, there was NO way she shouldn’t have been a Virgin or at the very least it being a more recent occurrence for her. The emphasis on how late made him simultaneously want to know how long her father had been abusing her, and not want to know all at the same time. Apparently long enough to where she didn’t bat an eye sex, long enough for it to become commonplace to her...she was too young for that...it should still make her blush to be brought up in conversation, it should be a taboo to talk about around adults. This was entirely unacceptable and he was going to torture that Bastard when he found him again. 

 

The silence was deafening as Faith realized she’d pissed John off, she tensed and looked down at her plate and chewed on her lip. She flinched when John got up suddenly and he stalked from the room she muttered a quiet apology. 

 

“Darlin’...you didn’t do it,” Bobby said quietly. 

 

Faith stood quietly and collected her plate, and John’s then moved to the sink and began washing the dishes. Bobby watched her with a sigh. Dean hesitated before he got up and moved to her side. Faith, however, immediately withdrew and stalked out of the kitchen. 

 

“Faith,” Dean started to go after her. 

 

“Dean, let her go,” Bobby told him. 

 

“But….” Dean sighed and ran a hand through his hair. 

 

John sat with his head in his hand massaging his temples. This was distracting him from hunting, but it wasn’t like he could push her aside. It reminded him that often humans were just as much monsters as what he hunted. He looked up when Faith walked in and immediately he moved into her path making her freeze. He took a breath and knelt to her level, “Faith, nothin’ yer father did to you was okay, nothin’ at all, it ain’t normal, ain’t no man should ever put his hands on a child like that, least of all his own, so yeah it pisses me off, but it sure ain’t yer fault, you hear me?” 

 

Faith was looking down and she muttered an affirmative response. John sighed heavily, she heard him but didn’t believe him. This was much more painful than he had anticipated, it was terrible but John couldn’t stay long. He honestly would become unhelpful because of how angry he was at this. He stood to let her go by up to her room and sighed running a hand through his hair. 


End file.
